


A Series of Unfortunate Events (for John, at least)

by deadmemewalking



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Crack, Daddy Kink, Hair-pulling, Handcuffs, I'm sorry for this, Laf is flexible, Lingerie, M/M, Modern AU, Whipped Cream, fishnet stockings, horses ;), kink au, plots to steal slippers, stilettos, this started as a joke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 20:25:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14316507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadmemewalking/pseuds/deadmemewalking
Summary: When Alex came back from his last class of day, he found John at the counter, face-planted in a bowl of Frosted Flakes and muttering “What has been seen cannot be unseen”.aka Herc and Laf are kinky shits and John gets more than he bargained for





	A Series of Unfortunate Events (for John, at least)

**Author's Note:**

> I wan't to clarify that this is a crack fic birthed from a joke and clandestine email chains. Please don't take this seriously and enjoy! ;)

John loved his best friends. 

He loved Lafayette’s excitable french and off key singing in the shower; he loved Hercules’s big-brotherly head pats and his embroidered hand towels that hung from the oven door; he loved Alex’s passionate rants about coffee and his keyboard clacking at three in the morning; and he loved to fall into a cuddle pile with them every Friday and watch TV till the sun rose.

But there were times when John wouldn’t have minded if his friends walked off a cliff.

Part of sharing a New York apartment with three other dudes, who happened to be the slobbiest people John knew, was the constant laundry. If it wasn’t scattered across the floor and draped over the furniture, it was piled in an impressive heap that could swallow him whole. The laundry only got done when Herc tripped over some stray jeans in the dead of night and woke up the entire complex with his cursing, or when Alex found one too many dirty socks in their couch.

Which was how John found himself kneeling in front of their ancient washing machine on a lovely Saturday afternoon, shoving Laf’s skirts and Alex’s hoodies alike into a basket. It was a nice place to daydream, a relaxing break from studying and working. 

John was shaken out of his stupor when his fingers brushed soft lace and he pulled out a pair of purple panties. He flung them at the wall and stared in shock. When was the last time one of his roomies had brought a girl home? John was pretty sure that Laf and Herc were fucking and Alex was too absorbed in midterms to even leave the apartment so that must mean- He reached back into the pile of clothes and emerged with brightly colored lingerie, a glittery corset, and some horrible lacy contraption that John wouldn’t want to touch with a ten-foot pole, all fit for someone slim and at least 6 feet.

John didn’t even want to think about what Lafayette and Herc did with them or why they were in the laundry- shouldn’t these things be hand washed?- but he put the lingerie in Lafayette’s pile and didn’t look at it again.

Later, when he was making his rounds to each of their bedroom doors and depositing the piles of clothes, John paused before shouldering his way into Laf’s room.

The person in question sat on their bed and played what looked suspiciously like candy crush, but they grinned when John came in.

“ _Mon ami,_ ” they bounded toward him but paused when they saw what was on top of the clothes in John’s arms. Lafayette wasn’t embarrassed in the least, and a smirk danced across their face. “So kind of you to wash these, _mon cher.”_

John scowled and dropped the clothes onto the floor. “Whatever, hand wash your own kinky shit next time.”

As he turned to leave, Lafayette called out, “I believe this one actually belongs to dear Herc-”

John slammed the door shut. 

~~~

 The problem with having four teenage dudes in one apartment was the amount food needed and the amount of food that was actually there.

Everyone tried to pull their own weight, including grocery shopping and the occasional cooking, but hectic college schedules and extra work shifts to pay the rent meant that the fridge usually left something to be desired.

Furthermore, the four inhabitants of the apartment had the strangest tastes known to mankind. They lacked basic human necessities, like vegetables and bread, but Hercules stocked up on bottles of almond milk and Lafayette has a penchant for French baking that filled the apartment with tasty treats and a sweet smell. For all his grumbling about how eating disrupted studying, Alex was unhealthily addicted to ramen and stashed several packs in the cupboards. John himself ate too much of the sugary cereal that dominated their pantry.

So John was used to the understocked fridge and his friends’ quirky eating habits.

But never in his life did he think that when he opened the fridge, he would find five cans of whipped cream. John gaped for a moment before yelling over his shoulder.

“Laf! For the love of sweet baby RuPaul, why is there so much damn whipped cream in the fucking fridge?”

Lafayette, who had been doing God knows what in their room, emerged to grab the opened bag of popcorn on the counter and smirked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

John rolled his eyes, figuring that it was best not to question Lafayette, and reached for the box of take-out stuffed between a can of beer and a watermelon.

Unfortunately, John did end up finding out the reason for the whipped cream. As he searched for some non-expired (almond) milk in the fridge, he noticed that all the cans of whipped cream were gone. Hearing giggles coming from Herc’s room, he poked his head inside, and closed the door faster than you could say “kinky”.

John was never going to be able to eat whipped cream again.

~~~

The best part of sharing an apartment with one’s best friends was exactly that; they’re your best friends.

John knew these people better than anyone. He knew their stories, knew their likes and dislikes, knew what to say and what not to say; but most of all, he knew that they were the end-all, to-hell-and-back friends that he would never let go.

Sharing a living space with his best friends in the world meant that privacy wasn’t a part of their dictionary. Herc was practically a space heater, so Alex, Laf and John all climbed into his bed on the coldest winter nights to take advantage of his warmth, poking Herc with their icicle fingers. Alex’s papers and textbooks found their way onto every flat surface in the apartment, and his roommates even found an essay or two in the bathroom. Laf’s daily concerts in the shower evolved into a full blown four part harmony and impromptu Beyonce sessions. And John had an unreasonable amount of sweatshirts that traveled amongst the four of them so much that no one really remembered whose they were in the first place.

The four of them had an open door policy; everyone is always welcome in any part of the apartment. It was their home, and they all belonged there together.

These people were John’s family; which meant that he had absolutely no problem bursting into their rooms to steal whatever they had been hoarding, from Halloween candy to pencil sharpeners. Laf was currently in possession of a certain pair of slippers that John desperately wanted. 

He had been planning his heist for a week, and when he was sure that the Laf’s room was empty, John threw open the door, ready to claim his prize. The room was, in fact, not empty. 

“I didn’t know you were that flexible, Laf.” The first thing he noticed was a long and lean body, feet adorned in red stilettos, doing a backbend on the floor. The second thing he noticed was  Hercules Mulligan sweaty and shaking on the bed, wearing nothing but handcuffs and one of those stupid cowboy ties pulled tight around his neck, panting the word “Daddy”, his eyes locked on the figure on the floor.

The third thing he noticed when Laf lifted their head and John saw the atrocious horse mask on their face. He shrieked and slammed the door, slipper-less and traumatized for life.

When Alex came back from his last class of day, he found John at the counter, face-planted in a bowl of Frosted Flakes and muttering “What has been seen cannot be unseen”. 

~~~

John had been pining over Alex since forever.

For all of the kiny shit that they pulled, Lafayette and Hercules genuinely cared about each other, and witnessing it made John heartsick. But after gazing at Alex from afar for nearly a year, he pulled his head out of his ass and finally asked John out. They went out for lunch and walked around the city, and John had never blushed and laughed so much before. 

“Won’t you walk me home, Mr. Hamilton?” John felt like a teenage girl with a crush. Alex pushed him up against the closed apartment door and stole a few kisses before they actually went in. They were greeted with the sight of Herc sliding in front of the doorway from down the hall, flushed and out of breath. John raised his eyebrows, the giddy smile from before replaced with an unimpressed glare.

Herc smirked. “Did he tap that ass?”

John blushed, trying to hold up his glare as Alex giggled and squeezed his hand, but whatever he was going to say was cut off by a heavily accented voice.

“Hercules?” John cringed at the seductive tone, which was followed Lafayette themself, decked out in untied lace-up boots and the longest fishnet thigh high stockings that he had ever seen, which was not saying a lot.

Herc saluted and followed Laf back to their room, while John groaned, dropping his head onto a very confused Alex’s shoulder.

“Let’s go to my room and kiss until I forget everything we just saw.”

~~~

The thing about living in an apartment in New York, facing college midterms and working to pay the rent, is how hectic one’s life gets.

Despite living with them, John could go nearly a week without speaking with his roommates; their interactions were limited to the coffee sitting on the counter, brewed by whoever had awaken first, brief eye contact made in the bathroom mirror while brushing teeth, and the laundry piles deposited in front of bedroom doors. Their overlapping, stuffed and exhausting schedules left no time to even breathe, let alone socialize.

John, for the first time in nearly a month, had a free morning to sleep for a decent number of hours and actually eat breakfast. His first Tuesday lecture was cancelled because Professor Adams had taken another vacation, this time without notifying the school in time to find a replacement. John couldn’t care less; Adams was a nuisance since most of what he said made no sense, and Alex claimed that he would die of irrelevance.

Free for what felt like the first time in years, John perched on one of the fancy bar stools at the kitchen island, shoveling unhealthy amounts of sugary cereal into his mouth. He was content with relaxing for an hour before his next class, but the universe had other plans.

Lafayette, who had an early shift at the coffee shop on their block, was dressed to the nines and ready to go when they strode into the kitchen. They had an outgoing but tasteful sense of style, so John wasn’t fazed by the bright pink suspenders, lace-up boots or silky bowtie. He just poured a second helping of Lucky Charms into his bowl and kept eating.

It was nice, the comfortable silence as Laf kept him company, the rising sun’s rays streaming through the window blinds and the early birds chirping away. John couldn’t remember the last time he and Laf were together for more than five minutes. The stress and exhaustion was a good distraction from how much he actually missed his best friends.

Just as John was mixing Fruit Loops in his Lucky Charms, Herc emerged from Laf’s bedroom. Luckily, he was wearing pants, but that was where John’s fortune ran out; he made a beeline straight for Laf, who smirked in response. He crowded them up against the counter and put his hands a little too low on their back. John rolled his eyes; how much sex could two people have in one day?

“I like your bowtie,” Herc’s voice belonged in the bedroom, not the kitchen. The couple was practically eye-fucking, Laf’s hands on Herc’s biceps and his fingers on their bowtie. Seemingly oblivious to John _sitting right there_ , the kissing turned into making out which turned into unbuttoning Laf’s shirt, even though they had work in fifteen minutes. By the time Herc was pulling hard at Laf’s hair, John had had enough.

“Really? Right in front of my salad?” Herc acted like he hadn’t noticed John was sitting there, but his smirk said otherwise. Laf was unashamed, on the other hand, pulling their boyfriend back to his room for another round. John groaned and ate more sugary cereal.

Alex had returned from his debate team meeting by the time that Laf and Herc had really started to get it on. John was thankful for his boyfriend, and leaned into the kiss pressed on his lips as he walked into the kitchen.

He looked down into John’s bowl of soggy cereal and sugar milk, huffing adorably. “You taste like type 2 diabetes.”

John smirked, slipping his hands beneath his boyfriend’s shirt, wanting to keep him close for as long as possible. However, the sweet moment was broken by a shout of pleasure.

They both cringed, “It’s like Laf just wants to hear themself scream.”

“That’s probably a kink somewhere.” John glanced in the direction of Herc’s room, “and by somewhere I mean over there.”

He envied the look of confusion that crossed Alex’s face. Herc and Laf apparently were only interested in making John’s life miserable with their kinky shit. But the two of them rolled their eyes in synchrony when another drawn out moan rang from down the hall.

John  _really_ hoped his roommates walked off a cliff.


End file.
